


With a Golden Collar

by orphan_account



Series: Insatiable [5]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: -clanging pots and pans together- HERE BE SMUT, Anal Sex, Attempt at Humor, Begging, Breeding Kink, Established Relationship, F/M, Face-Fucking, Femdom, Humiliation, Male Submissive, Men Crying, Missionary, Mutual Masturbation, Pegging, Pet Names, Pet Play, Post-Time Skip, Reverse Cowgirl, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sloppy Makeouts, Spanking, handjob, rimjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-02 13:02:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20276338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Claude fashions himself as a spunky little kitten. Byleth tames him.9/02/2019 - Now with a thrilling sequel. :^)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by my sis.
> 
> There's some Hilda/Ignatz too.
> 
> Blease enjoy.
> 
> d(=^・ω・^=)b

Claude is shoved into the wall violently and the air suddenly leaves his lungs, and just as he tries to move himself away from bricks lining up against his back a deceptively soft pair of lips descend upon his. His mouth is forced opened and his senses are overpowered by a tongue that wiggles, pulsates and makes sweeps across his mouth, almost like a descending sea-serpent plunging into the water. Slippery and mucilaginous, he briefly notes that she tastes of raspberries before he’s shoved back against the wall. He feels his legs wobble like a newborn deer and his eyes are half-lidded, already nearly brought to ruin by a kiss. 

Byleth looks at him like he’s a feast to be devoured, she’s wearing a simple white nightgown and when illuminated by the candlelight he can see the outline of her delicious body. She licks her lips while putting her hands on her hips, and with a voice befitting a Queen commanding her army she demands, “Take off your clothes.”

“I sure hope you’ll be undressing with me.” It’s only when the words leave him does he realize he’s been panting slightly, as if he jogged a mile in full armour. He takes a deep breath in an attempt to recompose himself, and he gives a wink. 

She smirks, “No, I think I’ll keep wearing my nightgown.”

“A bit cruel to leave me naked, don’t you think?” His tone is light and airy, though he can’t hide this growing arousal that’s beginning to tent his pants. 

She takes a step toward him and Claude would take a step back if his path wasn’t already blocked by the wall. She slithers a finger lightly across his lips before trailing down his neck and clavicle. “I’ll hold you so close you won’t get cold,” then another hand reaches under his loose shirt, her nails just barely raking the surface of his skin and unconsciously Claude finds himself leaning into the touch so that she can properly scratch him, “besides, I can do whatever I want with what’s _ mine _can’t I?”

His face flushes and he can’t help but look away at the mention of being hers, years of marriage and something like that still makes him awfully flustered. The hand lazily scratching at his chest and stomach moves down and Byleth’s fingers slide around the waistband of his pants and yanks them down. He inhales a sharp breath, goosebumps suddenly forming on his legs from the chill that assaults his skin. As much as he would like to put on a bit of a fight, to act like a brat, he finds himself lifting his leg and then the other so that she can fully take off his pants. 

“No underwear?” she hums, “Naughty.”

He doesn’t think twice when he hastily takes his shirt off and throws it in a corner. Now fully naked he feels as though his skin has become so much more sensitive and receptive to any sort of stimulus. When he feels a finger make meaningless patterns across his abs only for it to apply more pressure, the nail sweeping across his skin and leaving red lines in its wake. When the finger passes by an old bruise he had sustained from a previous game they played his shoulders tense and he _ whimpers. _

“Did that hurt?” Her finger is now directly above the offending bruise.

“Y-Yeah,” he breathes, and gives her frivolous smile, “Do it again.”

Byleth obliges and she presses her finger down, gives it a twist and he bucks his hips at the pain. His cock is fully erect now, and her other hand takes a hold on his length. 

Byleth leans in so that her breath makes his skin tingle, “I don’t remember ever taking orders from you.” The finger on his bruise presses down hard, so much so Claude fears she might actually break the skin, and the hand on his cock twists. His knees buckle and he has to make a conscious effort to keep standing.

“S-Sorry…_ Teach _..” When she relieves the pressure from both her hands, he lets out a breath he doesn’t know he was holding. He loves it when she forces him to apologize over something. He starts to leak out precum.

Teeth suddenly scrapes down on the base of his neck and when she lets go she’s rewarded with a lurid moan. “Make yourself useful and put your fingers in me, Claude.”

She uses her commanding tone like she always does when she fucks him so he doesn’t need to be told twice. 

Suddenly floundering his arms and hands around with the coordination of someone who recently hit their head on a boulder, Claude hurriedly shoves his hands under her nightgown to find that Byleth isn’t wearing any underwear either. One of his hands grip on her hip as if he’s trying to find balance from falling, and another cups her mound. He traces lazy circles around her clit and enters her with one finger when he feels Byleth beginning jerking him off in earnest.

It doesn’t take long for either of them to get close to release, they know what each other likes. Claude moves his finger in and out, hard and fast, before sticking another finger in her and rubbing her clit with his thumb. The hand on her hip had moved upwards to one of her breasts. 

Byleth pumps him as if their lives depend on it, with her other hand alternating between pinching his nipples, scratching at old bruises, and spanking his backside whenever he jerks his hips away from the wall. She then tightly grabs his throat when she cums, clenching hard on his fingers. 

Claude cums soon after with a strangled cry. He slumps and puts his weight onto the wall that once trapped him, now giving him reprieve. He thinks Byleth is going to make him lick off her fingers when she appraises his fluids on her, but instead she simply walks to their nightstand and cleans herself off with a napkin, before offering one to Claude. He smiles.

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you?”

She tilts her head and suddenly looks deep in thought, “I’ve been told every now and then.”

He huffs a laugh and cleans himself up. He’s about to redress himself when he hears a tut-tut and feels a nonchalant hand grab his ass.

“Didn’t I say I’d keep you warm?” She takes a hold of his hand before leading him to the bed, eventually yanking him down to join her. His face goes between her bosom, and he looks her between her breasts. 

“Well, I could certainly get used to having these as pillows.” He reaches one hand to lightly squeeze one and then he wraps his arms around her shoulders.

Byleth pats him on the head, before sleepily stroking his hair. Claude curls up his body after he pulls the bedsheets on them. She was right, she_ is _ warm. 

Before he closes his eyes, he hears an almost inaudible whisper. “If you were a cat, I bed you’d be purring right now.”

He certainly wishes he could purr right about now.

-

They’re doing paperwork late one night, dealing with taxes and tariffs and the usual squabble between nobles in the alliance. He’s not sure how long they’ve been going at it, but the sounds of quills writing on paper is starting to make him feel insane. The scratching of the parchment paper making him feel as though there are ants crawling beneath his skin. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

He blows a breath through his nose and stops writing, looking at Byleth who’s sitting directly in front of him. She’s still furiously scribbling away, as if she intends to do every piece of paperwork during one night despite it being physically impossible.

Claude places his quill down and begin scooting his chair around the table, closer and closer to his desired destination; all while keeping his eyes on Byleth. She seemingly pays him no mind.

Well, at least her dedication to writing tax reforms is admirable.

He finally scoots his chair far enough so that he’s directly in front of her. He sighs, long and airy. Seeing her lack of response, he sighs again, but this time in a much more exaggerated manner and leans on the desk. Seeing once again her lack of response, he pouts, and he coly trails a finger up and down her bicep, and then brushes some hair behind her air before blowing hot breaths at her. 

Finally, her quill stills for a moment before she clears her throat, “I take it you are making attempts at seduction?” 

“Oh, your Majesty! Can't a man annoy his wife?” he smirks, “I am merely trying to ease some of these _ very _stiff muscles you have.” Then, his expression softens and he rubs one of her shoulders, “But really, I think it’s high-time you have a break. Or go to bed. I vote for the second option.” 

She gives him a tired smile, and then leans back on her chair to stretch and yawn, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Done stretching, she ruffles some of his hair, only to move down the side of his face and scratch the underside of his chin. 

Claude immediately closes his eyes and leans into the touch, savouring the moment before it goes away. When he continues scratching him, he lifts his chin up to bare his entire neck. 

He hears a small laugh, “First you pine for my attention with antics and then you keel for neck scratches. Maybe you really _ are _ a cat rather than a deer. Would Golden Cats have rolled off the tongue as Golden Deer?”

He blinks, and then he feels his face become immediately flushed but says nothing. Byleth kisses him on the cheek before standing to leave, followed closely by Claude.

He sleeps with muddled thoughts. He thinks he dreamt of cats when he awakes the next morning.

-

Days later, they’re having a tea party with Hilda and Ignatz. The two artists had recently returned from a worldwide gallery tour showcasing their work. Hilda had become a famed accessory maker, her jeweled bracelets and necklaces becoming the envy of every noble, so much so that she receives commissions from nobility from halfway across the world. An expert craftswoman and designer, she created new sets of crowns and tiaras for Byleth and Claude—_ ”They’re the crowned jewels!” she has excitedly exclaimed when she presented them to the royal couple _—and she often enjoys bedazzling Byleth with exotic stones and diamonds whenever a ball or fancy dinner occurs.

Ignatz had become a famous painter, his work complementing Hilda’s accessories nicely during the gallery tour. He was the premier portrait painter, though his main claim to fame were his paintings related to religious myths and stories. After he and Hilda had created their artisan academy and married, his portraits of the Goddess were _ suspiciously _beginning to resemble his wife more and more. 

After returning back, the artists were invited by Byleth to a tea party, both as a congratulations on their success and as an excuse to catch up with friends. They had been chattering like birds about a variety of topics, with Hilda eventually pinching Ignatz on the cheek before joyfully exclaiming, “He’s as cute as a button! I wouldn’t know what I would do without him, he’s my soulmate!” she removed her hand from his cheek before ruffling his hair, “My cute little _ kitten.” _

Claude doesn’t miss how Ignatz suddenly turns as red as a tomato and squirms in his seat. He suddenly looks like a schoolboy sitting next to his childhood friend turned crush. Hilda and Byleth return to speaking with one another while Claude leans forward into his chair to address Ignatz. 

“So, when’d she start calling you that?”

Ignatz scratches the back of his neck, still blushing, “O-oh… not that long ago. Eheh, I’m still getting used to it.” 

He’s unconvinced but this isn’t the place to egg him on about it, so Claude nods sagely and takes a sip of his tea, “Yeah, I get that feeling. When Byleth started calling me ‘little deer’ it took some getting used to, hah!”

They continue like that for the rest of the evening, making easy conversation and simply enjoying each other’s company. When they finally do bid goodnight and go their separate ways, Hilda stumbles as if drunk and only doesn’t fall because she’s supported by Ignatz. 

_ “I’m drunk off the atmosphere!” _she had exclaimed, before promptly doing a faceplant on the table. 

“She’s only doing that because she doesn’t want to walk,” Byleth huffed, shaking her head but still having a smile on her face, “she’s still a master of getting people to give her what she wants.” 

Byleth and Claude walk back to their bedchambers hand in hand and in companionable silence. It gives Claude the opportunity to think.

_ Apparently I’m being haunted by a bunch of cats, if them constantly inserting themselves in my life is anything to go by. Did I accidentally upset some cat goddess and this is divine retribution? _ Is _ there a cat goddess? _

Then, he smirks.

_ Or maybe it’s destiny. _

He's heard of it, of course. Pet play. Pretending to be an animal and probably getting fucked like one. 

_ It sounds ridiculous. I have to try it. _

-

Claude looks at the fuzzy headband as if it holds all the secrets in the world. He had gotten it at some costume store, well, more accurately he had gotten Lysithea to get it for him. Grazing his fingers across the ears, it sure does feel like fur. Claude briefly entertains the idea that they might have actually skinned a cat for this.

_ Alright, back it up there. That’s not sexy. _

He gingerly places the headband on his head. It’s white, Lysithea cited that there apparently none in his hair colour. All sold out. He wondered if they were really that popular or if Lysithea bought the white ones because she secretly wanted to try them herself, despite her vehemently denying so.

Looking at himself in a mirror, he… _ supposes _he doesn’t look too bad. While Byleth insists he looks good in anything—he often agrees with that sentiment—he’s not entirely sure how to approach this new toy with his wife.

Claude likes to fashion himself as a phenomenal orator with even better skills of coercion and manipulation, but somehow asking things like "hey my darling wife can you rail me into oblivion while I've got whiskers drawn on my face?" has never been one of his strong suits. He supposes he could always just… prep himself up and surprise Byleth when she walks into the room.

A lot of what they usually do goes like that, a spur of the moment idea filled entirely of lust and probably not too much sense. As a couple, they don’t often sit down to discuss their escapades in the bedroom because they know each other—can tell when they’re enjoying whatever they’re doing, and they trust one another enough to know that they can opt out whenever they’re not into whatever it is they’re doing and know that there’ll be no repercussions about it; regardless of who initiates it. 

He’s always been good at _ that. _ Showing what he wants through actions and not words, but now he’s at a loss on how to properly convey wanting to try this through either words _ and _ body language. Whatever he usually puts himself in he thinks is _ sexy, _whether it be racy underwear or sleek red rope criss-crossing his body, it’s always something he can work with when he gets into the right headspace. But.. cats aren’t sexy. And thinking about what costume would look seductive and tantalizing on Byleth... Suffice to say, “cat owner” doesn’t exactly make it high on the list.

_ Although, if you just went with ‘owner’ instead _—

“Claude, what are you doing?”

He turns around so fast his impromptu head ornament flings off his scalp and flies across the room. He sees Byleth looking at him with an incredulous look, her eyes flicking at the cat ears now discarded on the floor. 

“Byleth!” he gives an awkward laugh, “Goddess, did you change to the assassin class? I didn’t even hear you! You need something?”

She shrugs her shoulders to remove her pauldron and cape—she must have just finished a royal meeting—and she brushes her hair with her hand. “I see a cat fad has reached the palace.” She gives him a slight grin.

Another awkward laugh escapes his lips—_ stop laughing you idiot! Get it together!— _ and slicks his hair back, “Yeah, apparently cat headbands are the next hot thing everyone’s trying out. I blame Hilda, I bet it’s a new accessory she made.” He heads over to pick up the offending apparatus. Casually, of course. Wouldn’t want to seem hasty like he’s hiding some _ secret. _ He nonchalantly places on one of the many work tables they have.

Byleth merely nods, and he can see she’s clearly exhausted from the day’s proceedings. Suddenly feeling guilty he's just been doing cat fashion appreciation while she’s been doing politics, he quietly takes her hand and wordlessly leads her to the bed, and when she sits down he takes a seat behind her. He begins to gently knead her shoulders and when she breathes out a sigh of contentment he begins to rub circles on her back with one of his hands. 

He won’t trouble her with nonsense like him fretting over _ sexy cat roleplay _of all things. If he’s going to do this, he’s going to do this right. While intense, passionate sex is a great stress reliever he knows she doesn’t want to do roleplay when it’s been a long day, so he’ll choose a day where neither of them are bogged down by work. And he’s going to research this properly, as he does whenever he tries something new. He liked to think he was a fairly thorough when it came to these matters.

And he thinks he knows the perfect man to ask about this topic, purely for the sake of _ research _, of course.

-

Life goes on like usual for about a week.

Paperwork, meetings, dealing with squabbles of the nobility. It’s all painfully routine at this point. But they make due with breathless kisses when they pass each other in hallways, holding each other’s hands under the desk during meetings, the occasional tryst in unused rooms… When they retire to their private quarters they mostly just cuddle, speak about the day and sleep. Some mornings, when they find their newfound energy, Byleth rides him so hard he thinks the bed is about to break—it wouldn’t be the first time that has happened—her nails raking his chest, smirking down at him calling him ‘_ good boy’ _ or _ ‘little deer’ _ like she always does.

When she’s feeling particularly risqué, rather than kisses in the hallway she corners him with a look and fingers him or, if she’s packed her strap-on, fuck him so hard he has a limp for the rest of the day. He’s fun to play with, she says as much, as all she has to do is just give a _ hint _of what she might do; be it her giving him a dangerous look, trailing a finger on his thigh, grabbing his wrist a certain way and he’s a wide-eyed mess who’s ready to melt in her arms.

She’s worthy of his submission. She always has been, and she _ earned _ it. He had thought about for a long time when he first found out about his… _ interests _ when it came to sex. Figured that, sure, he’s a King and is thus the lucky guy to hold an absurd amount of responsibility on his shoulders. Makes sense for him to want that taken away from him in bed, to let someone else be in charge.

But it doesn’t make sense when he thinks about Byleth. She has just as much responsibility as he has, has had them for longer too. She has no interest in letting anyone else take the control from her in bed. And surely it doesn’t make much sense to think that every person in a position in power is a submissive person in bed. So he stopped thinking about. He stopped _ worrying _ about it. There’s no need to try to justify it. So then he figured that, whatever, he just likes it. Sometimes he just needs the feelings of hands on his throat or buried in his hair and the whisper of ‘ _ Mine _’ in his ear. Sometimes he just needs to feel the stinging hits of a riding crop on his rear while handcuffed to a bed. Sometimes he needs to follow orders to feel fulfilled. And he was always good at taking orders.

The morning Claude plans to do his so-called research is a lazy one. For once, they have nothing planned. A day of respite. Byleth has already made plans for a dinner party with just the two of them, with strict orders for no one to interrupt them unless it was an emergency. 

Still in bed with the day barely started, he slowly enters Byleth as she’s lying in front of him. It’s a slow, sweet and very lazy fuck. There’s nothing intense and the two of them simply giggle and whisper sweet nothings to each other while peppering every body part they can reach with kisses. He finishes outside of her and when they finally get dressed an hour later he bundles up the sheets for them to get cleaned later.

With a peck on Byleth’s cheek and a wink as he exits the door, Claude sets out to find Ignatz. He’s leaving under the pretense that he wants to catch up with some friends, Byleth herself planning to have a tea-party with some of her own. 

Claude makes a beeline for Ignatz’s art studio, wearing another disguise to avoid being accosted either by guards or civilians. He knows the man is likely working on his next masterpiece. What he doesn’t expect to see is the man painting on the ceiling while standing on some very precarious looking scaffolding. 

“Oh! Cla—Your Majesty! Excuse me, I’ll be right down.” The young man is covered in paints, splotches of different colours trailing down his face and hair.

Claude shrugs and gives him an easy smile as he watches Ignatz hastily climb down the scaffolding—Claude has to remind himself to breathe when it looks like the painter will fall for a split second—and just as hastily brew them some tea. He takes of his cloak and haphazardly lets it flop onto a table.

“If I’ve told you once I’ve told you a million times, Ignatz, just called me Claude.” He thanks Ignatz when he is given the tea and sits down on a rickety chair. He snorts when he appraises Ignatz and his workshop, “Looking like the spitting image of a crazed artist, man. What are you doing painting on the ceiling, anyway? Ran out of canvases?”

Ignatz quickly rubs at his face, but makes the marks on his face worse. Seeming to give up, he stops and blows a breath. “I’ve been commissioned to paint on the ceiling of the capital’s monastery. They want me to paint a whole slew of scenes from a bunch of legends and myths. Figured I’d get some practice on my own ceiling, I guess. It’s back breaking work!”

“Well, since you’ll be painting the Goddess again, you might want to make sure she doesn’t resemble your darling Hilda,” He smirks when he watched Ignatz almost spit out his own tea, “Unless, of course, you want people to worship her.” 

He can somehow see Ignatz’s blush under the paint covering his face and the artist pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his finger. “Honestly, Claude, you really need to warn someone when you do that.” The ‘_ only I can worship her’ _is left unsaid, but Claude knows Ignatz well enough to know he’s thinking it.

Ignatz recomposes himself and squints his eyes at Claude as if suspecting him of something. Well, he’s probably right to be suspicious of his king by now. “Clearly, you’re scheming something. So what do I have to do with whatever you’re planning?” 

As much as Claude would like to pussyfoot around the topic and teasingly imply Ignatz is guilty of treason for suspecting his king is planning something nefarious, he knows he doesn’t have all day. The morning fuck he had with Byleth and the time it took to convince Seteth and the guards to let him go to Ignatz’s abode alone took a fair chunk of time out of the day. So, he decides to just be blunt.

“Does Hilda fuck you while you pretend to be a cat? If so, can you give me some advice?”

Rather than spluttering on his tea, Ignatz falls off his chair, dry-heaving this time because he’s swallowed his drink this time. He _ really _needs to stop drinking just before Claude is about to drop a ball on something. He says as much.

There’s more coughing and heavy breathing and eventually Ignatz is able to sit back on his chair and he gives Claude a look of exasperation. Huh. Claude didn’t know Ignatz was capable of looking that annoyed. 

“W-W-What are you talking about?! Claude, your practical jokes suck!”

He holds his hands up in mock defense, and huffs a laugh. “Come on, man, with the way you reacted to when Hilda called you kitten it was obvious. I was hoping to learn about your… expertise on the matter.” 

Ignatz looks as though he’s going to angrily slam his teacup on the table, but instead the man gently places it down with a satisfying _ clink. _“It’s… It’s just a term of endearment!”

“_ Really?” _This time, it’s Claude that narrows his eyes in suspicion, “Cause with the way you reacted... Look, we’ve all done weird shit in bed. I won’t judge!” 

“You are insufferable sometimes,” Ignatz rights his glasses again and gives a long, annoyed sigh, “I can’t believe _ this _ is what we’re talking about.”

“I won’t judge,” Claude says again, “It’s really not a big deal. But hey, if you’re that uncomfortable guess I’ll ask Hilda.”

For his part, Ignatz doesn’t splutter or choke again, but still hurriedly says, “T-That won’t be necessary. I’ll help you because you’re my friend but I really don’t know how I could possibly assist you on this… endeavour.”

Claude quirks his eyebrow to tell Ignatz to continue.

“I-I mean, I don’t know what to say. You’re practically a cat already.”

He tilts his head and finishes what’s left of his tea in one drink before setting his cup down, “And you’re not the first to make that comparison. What gives?” Claude had never grown up with cats, and while there’s the occasional feline roaming the palace he isn’t in charge of taking care of them. He knows they’re soft and cuddly but that’s about it.

Ignatz frowns, “They’re cunning and free-spirited animals,” Claude smiles at that, “and they can get people to do what they want. Like convince you to feed them after they’ve already had dinner because they act like they’re dying of starvation.” Ignatz furrows his brows like he’s personally offended by that thought. “Just think about it, Claude, cats are masters of psychological manipulation.”

Well, he’ll take that as a complement. “Sounds like you know from experience from your own cats. And what about you? |s that the same for yo—”

“What I do and what _ you _do—” he suddenly points as Claude like he’s a villain on trial for something, “—is completely different. As well as the why. Again, I can’t tell you how to do this. Just… do whatever! Isn’t that what sex’s all about? Figuring it out but also having fun along the way?”

Well, Claude certainly can’t disagree with that. But there’s still something irking him. The thing that’s been bugging him the entire time.

“Okay, but, how is any of this sexy? What’s the appeal?”

Ignatz gives him a look that can only be described as sheer disbelief and the painter leans back in his chair, “Claude, come on, I’m certain you’ve done… raunchier things. It’s just roleplay, you don’t have to _ literally _ act like a cat and shit in a litter box,” hearing the straight-laced Ignatz swear makes Claude bark out a loud laugh, “It’s… part of the humiliation and being _ owned.” _

Before Claude can reply, Ignatz hastily stands from his chair, “I’m going to brew more tea. Do you want more tea, of course you do. I’ll make us more tea.”

Clearly, Ignatz doesn’t want to speak of this topic anymore. And Claude isn’t cruel enough to torment him any longer, so he drops it to instead ruminate in his own thoughts. In hindsight, what he said was painfully obvious. _ Of course _it’s the humiliation and being owned is what gets cat roleplayer going but it’s still comforting in a way to get confirmation about the appeal of the act. 

He taps his fingers on his thigh as he listens to Ignatz brew some tea and cut slices of toast. 

_ Maybe I’m a spunky little kitten who needs to be tamed. _

And with that thought, his breath hitches, and nervousness and indecision is replaced with excitement.

-

After speaking with Ignatz about _ normal _topics and thanking him for tea, Claude initiates the second part of the plan. A plan he wasn’t necessarily intending to do this day, but he was a man of action. Spur of the moment decisions was what he did. He knows exactly where he’s going and he takes a sharp turn at a corner into a seedy looking alleyway. 

He’s wearing a disguise, he has to for the place he’s going to. His hoodie is pulled over his head and his face is half covered with a sash, soon to be fully covered because this… _ establishment _provides masks for its patrons for maximum anonymity. When your clients are half the nobility, caution is necessary. When Claude reaches his destination and enters the building, he quickly puts on a mask that’s available directly next to the entrance. 

It’s a sex toy shop called _ Bad Wyvern _, one that he and Byleth frequent enough that if Seteth were to know of their purchases he’d probably burn the shop to the ground before committing regicide. 

Claude takes a look at the dildo aisle, taking a look at the toys fashioned after wyvern cocks, unicorn horns, tentacles and mermaid tails. He sees one that’s built like a horse penis, life sized too. Looking at it, he always shudders. He’s put some… _ large _things inside of himself but he’d never go quite that far. It reminds him of an infamous ruler from centuries ago he had learned about, an exceptional warlord who had a penchant for impaling her enemies after conquering them.

_ Rather than impaling people with poles she should have just used these. _

Moving away from the dildos he surveyed the anal plugs, certain that what he was looking for was among these toys.

_ Come on, there’s gotta be one fashioned after a tail here somewhere… Huh, you can activate that one with thunder magic and it’ll vibrate? Maybe I should borrow Lysithea’s Levin Sword… _

Sure enough, he finds what he’s looking for. A white cat tail anal plug, he picks it out and makes a hasty retreat for the exit after paying. The individual at the payment stall gave him a sly smile before cheekily commenting, “Your kitten is in good hands, sir!”

He simply nods, not wanting to potentially blow his cover by speaking. He leaves.

_ Why is that everytime I come here they think I’m the dominant one? One of them even called me a daddy at some point. Whatever. _

_ Well, _ he later figured, _ sucks to be them when they’ve got such bad taste in bed. _

-

When he enters their bedchambers and is immediately hit with the aromas of multiples of his favourite food he realizes just how hungry he is. Byleth had gotten a mix of both Almyran and Fódlan food stacked on the table and it’s so much of a feast he wonders if just the two of them can actually finish half of what’s plated here.

Well, no matter. The food’s nice, but enjoying each other’s company is the primary goal here. Byleth had given a deep kiss before he sat down and he savoured the taste of her on his tongue. Now sitting down and ready to eat, they talked about all manner of topics while staunchly avoiding anything relating to work. They speak with each other for hours, occasionally feed each other, and their hands glazing each other as they caress and cuddle.

Another on the spot idea hits him, and he leans into Byleth. “You know all those cats in the palace that belong to the servants? I think they’re starting to warm up to me! One of them, I think his name is Giovanni, he just came up to me and went—” he curls his fingers and paws at her “—_ Meow! _That means he likes me, right?” 

There’s a pause, a moment Claude is waiting with bated breath to gauge Byleth’s reaction, looking for something to tell him he hasn’t embarrassed himself and done something she doesn’t like.

When she lets out a hot and heavy breath, he sees it. Her heated and hungry gaze. She shifts slightly and when she speaks her voice is raspy, “I think it’s when they lie on their backs and show their belly to you they trust you. Though I suppose a meow is a good sign too.”

Claude suddenly feels excited, an excitement that comes from doing something Byleth clearly wants to do as well. Spurred on by that, he blurts out a “You’re so beautiful” before leaning in and kissing her. From the way she responds by grabbing his hair firmly and taking control of the situation, she wants to continue on with this too. He wants nothing more than to grab the cat ears and tail he stashed away in some corner of the closet...

But.

_ Buuuuuut. _

Both he and Byleth have just eaten a large meal, and if he’s going to do something that involves sticking a large plug in his anus… well. They always cleaned after their games, but he doesn’t exactly want to clean _ that. _Byleth clearly knows that too since she releases him and the two simply continue sitting with one another, content. The arousal between them is tempered when they continue to relax, eventually falling asleep.

There’s an unspoken agreement that they’ll continue what they were doing later.

-

It’s several days later when Claude finds himself ready and prepared for _ Operation Cat Cat Kitty Cat. _It was a slow and easy day, the only important thing occurring being a diplomatic dinner. Neither of them are stressed. Perfect for him to torture Byleth by constantly flirting with bold but brief touches, long looks and suggestive smiles and winks. He knows that between speeches and conversations with people far too important to ignore, Byleth would have to wait with maddening desire. He can tell from the way she looks at him that she wants to drag in some corner of the room and make him go down to his knees and beg.

Perfect.

When the evening winds down and they bid their goodbyes to various dignitaries, Claude quickly slinks away to retreat to their bedchambers but not before whispering a _ meow _ to Byleth and meeting Seteth’s evil eye with a shrug and a wink. He had bathed himself before the dinner and avoided imbibing in the various refreshments. Needless to say, he didn’t have to worry about his _ bowels. _ Upon immediately entering the room he undressed himself, and put the cat ears on his head as if it were a holy crown. Looking down on the plug in a deep crevice of one of their closets, he takes a deep breath as he fingers himself with lube and then slowly inserts the toy inside of him. 

He stays still for a moment, letting his body get used to the new and large intrusion. When it settles, he takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror though he briefly notes the awkward gait he walks with. This toy is _ big. _Just big enough like the way he likes it. Looking at himself, he can’t help but think something’s missing.

_ Aha! _

He quickly rummages through their shared cabinet of sex toys and finds what he’s looking for: A collar. It’s a simple thing. Black with a white tag that didn’t say anything. It’ll have to do. 

When he puts it on, he thinks he looks like the complete package. He walks over to their bed and lies on it, belly on full display and in a position that resembles a relaxing cat. 

It’s only a short while before he hears rapid footsteps approach the door, and when it opens it closes just as quickly. Byleth looks the spitting image of a regal ruler, all capes and pauldrons. His heart skips and beat and his mind is suddenly muddled with “wow she’s pretty” as if this is the first time he’s seeing her. He’s taken out of his stupor when he hears a low _ growl _and she crushes their mouths against one another. He feels nipping at his tongue and lips. Her tongue darts in and out of his mouth and she keeps up with the punishment until his lips are kiss swollen, his body pliant and him moaning softly into his mouth.

Byleth’s fingers lightly wrap around his throat, his carotid artery thumping heavily under his fingers. When their breaths eventually do sync up, it was as if she was breathing for the both of them.

So much for being a spunky kitten.

He’s already been tamed.

When she lets him go to trail the same hand that was on his throat down his clavicle and chest, he curls his fingers and paws at her like he did that night many days ago, and gives a weak mewl.

“Geez, Teach, do you treat all the cats around here like that? I’ll have you know that’s animal abuse.” Desire drips from his tone and just as he finished speaking a hand suddenly surges forward and tugs at one of his earrings, forcing him to keel and follow the movement. 

“Ow! T-That’s the wrong ear—!” Then, just as quickly the hand releases his earring and the hand is back on his throat, effectively pinning him down on the sheets. He gives a choked cry when he feels one of her legs go in between his and friction starts to make him erect, his mind and body now high on euphoria of being completely dominated. 

He gives another meow and pawing of his hands when Byleth releases him again only to lean in so she can whisper in his ear, “Bad _ kittens _need to be punished.” That prompts yet another mewl from his lips. 

Then, she leaves. She skulks away to the room where their closets are like a woman on a mission. When she returns Claude can’t see anything in her hands but regardless he takes the opportunity to flip on his stomach and arch his back—just like that of a cat. Ass in the air with his arms stretching across the sheets. This actually feels really good, he makes a mental note to incorporate this in his actual stretching routine. 

He winks. “Like what you see? Meow~” he stretches the meow long enough he thinks the word might actually snap. 

She says nothing, but licks her lips and he knows she wants to ram into him. He wants that too. But instead, she simply walks over to one of their work tables and begins picking at and eating a muffin placed there—servants are always diligent in setting up refreshments in their room when they’re done cleaning it—and Claude can’t help but pout at the action. 

He slowly slides off the bed, and then turns to pretend he’s using it as a scratching post while making sure to arch his back again to accentuate the curve of his ass. His plug now on full display in front of her, he can hear her take a sharp breath. But again, she does nothing. 

Clearly, she wants him to come to her. So he does, and he crawls in what he hopes is a tortuously slow pace for her. He knows it’s torturous for him since he can feel every inch of the plug move within him, brushing his prostate and his penis grows fully hard. He says another meow that he hopes is sultry rather than completely desperate. When he doesn’t get a reaction he brushes his head and body against her legs.

Just like a cat.

He feels a hand begin to pat on his head and there’s a moment when he has to right his cat ears when Byleth’s hand almost makes it fall off. Then the hand leaves it’s replaced by a demand of “_ Come here. _” Claude takes a peek at her under the table to see her holding out some muffin crumbs in her hand and he crawls towards his prize, opening his mouth and making sure to give her slow and sensual licks across her fingers. He laps up the crumbs before eventually engulfing a finger down his throat. He sucks and licks to make the finger thoroughly damp, and when he pulls away his lips are coated in saliva. He licks his lips.

Chancing a glance upwards to her face, he sees her licking her lips too.

Wanting to try to be a spunky little kitten again, he tries to give her a sarcastic remark, “If this was meant to be a punishment, I gotta say, your technique is lacking, Teach.” He tries to keep his voice even, but it’s quivering, weak and _ wanton. _

Byleth gives him a wolfish grin that’s all teeth and she takes a hand to grip the back of his head and forces him to stand and sit on her lap. Claude gasps, and she hums against his throat. “Discipline comes in many different forms, kitten.” She kisses the area beneath his jaw, and bites at him until Claude is a whimpering mess. She does this several times over, undeterred by his thin collar, and he shifts constantly on her, grinding on her thigh. She pulls away from him and he knows he’s marked in several different places on his neck. 

He’ll be wearing scarves for a while after this. 

Not that he necessarily minds showing people who he _ belongs _to, but, well. Decorum and all that.

He’s about to make another snide remark when two fingers invade his mouth just as his parts his lips. He gives a surprised _ mmpf _and her fingers dive deeper down to shut him up. Then Byleth begins to pull and push, in and out, and slides over his tongue multiple times. Claude eventually relents and begins to suck obediently. He tries not to choke, but he gags anyway. He knows Byleth likes it when he gags. She gives his ass a smack with her free hand, the action making his whole body jerk.

Byleth slips her fingers out of his mouth, “Are you going to behave now, kitten?”

“Depends,” his tone is quivering again, “are you actually going to fuck me now? Are we actually going to get _ somewhere _ tonight?”

There’s another smack on his ass and the sting on his cheek makes him leak precum. Then, a hand entangles itself in his hair again and he’s forced off her lap and onto his knees. She lets go and gives him a light slap on his face. “Depends. Are you going to be a good kitty?”

He gets back to crawling position and tries to flick his tail by gyrating his ass. He doesn’t think he’s successful, so he stretches again by arching his back and lifting his rear in the air. “Meow.” He looks at her through his bangs tries his best to imitate a purr. 

Byleth barks out a laugh, and then her hands go on the waistbands of her pants. “I think it’s high-time we put that mouth to good use.” 

In a single motion she slides out of her pants, and he’s greeted by a large strap-on bouncing out. Huh. He didn’t even feel it when he was grinding on her. It’s a big one, thick and veiny. He curls his fingers in anticipation of getting that into his mouth.

He wastes no time crawling over to her to lock his lips around the synthetic cock. He rubs his tongue around it before taking the entire length down his throat. Just when he’s about to pull back he feels a hold on his hair and the dildo is shoved back inside him. He gags, and stays still as Byleth thrusts in and out of his mouth.

Her pace is unrelenting and Claude gags several times and his chest heaves. He tries his best to give a meow, but Byleth’s thorough face-fucking just makes his mewl turn into a _ hnng _and several slurping and choking noises. Tears begin to prickle at the corner of his eyes and she removes the dildo to let him catch his breath.

She lightly slaps his face with the toy, before unceremoniously shoving it back into his mouth. 

“Mmmmhhhph!”

His jaw aches from distending, drool, snot and tears starting to trail out of him like a waterfall. His throat constricts and his body tenses when he gags for what feels like the umpteenth time. Byleth roughly shoves the dildo to the very back of his throat and keeps him there, his face smushed into her crotch. His nose is tickled by the hair on her mound.

It’s only when he gives another _ hmmmph _and taps on her thigh with his hand frantically does she release him and he crumbles to the ground; coughing and dry-heaving. He recomposes himself and get backs on his hands and knees and gives her a weak smile through the fluids running down his face. “M-Meow…”

“We aren’t done, kitten. Put your mouth back on me.”

He swallows heavily, and crawls back to do just that. When his lips wrap around the tip, Byleth takes a step back and it pops out of him. He’s about to make a comment on that, but then he notices her shit-eating grin.

“Well, come and get it.”

He gives a whimper but sets out to crawl after her and his prize. She continues stepping back, laughing when he gets the tip of the toy back into his mouth. He has to redouble his efforts and crawl faster so the dildo doesn’t slip out of him again and Byleth makes him crawl around the room. His knees are beginning to hurt from the hardwood floor. 

Eventually the toy slips out of him again, and he merely stands there to pant. He takes a deep breath and uses the back of one of his hands to wipe his face.

“P-Please…”

She tilts her head, “I thought cats meowed.”

He whines, long and desperate. “Meow! Pleasejustfuckme! Meow!”

She snickers, and sits on the ground and beckons him forward with a finger. He crawls to her, but whimpers. Being conscious of the ache in his knees almost makes it hurt tenfold. 

She cups his face when he reaches her, “Turn around, kitty cat.”

He obeys. When he’s fully turned around he feels a hand on the plug, and she _ rotates _the toy. 

He sobs and there’s a tingle crawling across his spine and what feels like molten lava pooling his stomach. When the plug is eventually pulled, slowly of course, he can feel his hole gaping. She spits at his anus and the sudden cold sensation makes him jump. 

He knows he still has enough lube in him from the plug, and he knows Byleth is aware of that too. There’s a light tap on his rump and Claude turns his head to see Byleth lying on the floor. 

“Come on,” she says, “impale yourself on me.”

Her choice of words make him shiver and he aligns the toy with his hole, his back still facing her, and slowly puts it inside of him. When it’s fully inside of him he stills for a moment to get used to the new intrusion, and then begins to move his hips. He knows she must be enjoying the view of his ass, so he tries to move as sensual as he can. 

A loud crack echoes through the room as Byleth’s bare hand collides with an asscheek. Redness quickly begins the bloom on his cheek and she pinches him. His fingers twitch and toes curl, but other than that he continues rocking his hips like nothing has happened. She spanks him again and this time she bucks her hips so the toy goes _ extra _deep in him. 

“F-Fuck...” He moans, his hole clenching hard on the dildo. 

“Cats. Meow.” She punctuates both words with hard spanks on both cheeks, her hips continue to pound against him.

She continues her onslaught of slaps and thrusts, and sounds of her spanking reverberating against the walls. 

“M-Meo—_ hnnng _.. Meow.. haah…”

The slaps, thrusts and now his lurid moaning make for a divine cacophony of sounds for Byleth’s ears. His body begins to grow limp and there’s a string of drool hanging off his chin. His thighs begins to tense as the pressure inside his cock swells to a nigh-unbearable amount.

“I’m—” he gasps sharply from another brutal thrust and spank, “_ I’m gonna cum _—!!”

As streams of pearl white cum shoots out of him, he feels two hands grab his biceps, and he’s suddenly forced onto the ground on his belly. Byleth, now on top of him, continues to pound into him to the point he thinks his asshole might actually _ break. _

Oversensitive from just cumming, he sobs and trembles uncontrollably underneath her. His hips lurch.

“B-Byleth… _ nnng _,” he gives a shrill cry from her hitting his prostate, “P-Please…” There’s another slap on his abused ass and he murmurs a weak mewl.

Her exquisite torment finally ends when she gives one final hard thrust into him and stills, she gives a loud growl as she cums herself. When she’s done she lays on top of him. They’re both covered in sweat and Claude shakes, he slowly brings a hand back to his face to wipe his tear-stained face again. He inhales through his nose when he's finally able to breathe through it and turns his head to see Byleth smiling contentedly at him.

“Hi.” she says.

He snorts. “Hi yourself.”

She moves some hair from his eyes, “You look well and truly fucked.”

He can tell she’s quite proud of herself from that fact. She loves to watch him fall apart every time she fucks him. She certainly has a talent for making it feel like it’s his first time getting rough and ruining him.

She lifts her hips to fully remove the toy from his asshole before continuing to lie on top of him. He knows he’ll be bruised up come tomorrow morning, and his thighs and ass will hurt. But he finds his doesn’t really mind.

Soft lips touch the base of his neck, “You did good, kitten.”

It seems like ‘kitten’ will join ‘good boy’ and ‘little deer’ of Byleth’s growing list of pet-names for him.

He finds himself very excited over the realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, now, I've more or less ran out of ideas lmao. So if you got a prompt or want me to revisit a story and give it a second chapter or whatever then hmu. I will not write maledom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling sequel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't initially plan to add rimming but I remembered it was a request from a reader who's given me several nice comments. You know who you are. :)

The sun sank lower in the sky, the light of the long day slowly draining away. In the welcoming amber glow that follows crickets begin their symphony, chirping as the colours of the sky become more subdued and street lanterns are flicked on. A soothing breeze washes over the palace as the gentle energies of nature envelopes the area.

Inside of Byleth's and Claude's private bedchambers, a night-table is filled with half eaten pastries and seasonal fruit, a cup of tea with a shot of ale still steaming at the corner; all illuminated by dim candlelight. The fruit had been a divine citrus, so sour that it made Claude pucker his lips in a dramatic cringe.

Bellies now full, the two embrace one another. Claude sits on Byleth's lap with his hands around her neck and his head buried into her shoulder. Byleth rubs circles on his back while her other hand lazily rubs his scalp, fingers swimming in his hair. 

_ I'm like a big lap dog,  _ he happily mused inwardly, smile forming on his lips and he knows his stubble must be tickling bare skin. 

Thinking back to their prior game, he smiles wider and he nuzzles her neck and shoulder. 

_ More like a big cat. _

The calm, content silence is broken when Byleth murmurs sleepily.

"What are you smiling about?"

He rubs his face against her, purposely making his stubble touch her skin further and Byleth pulls away while giggling softly. He moves his face away and now looks at her directly.

"What?" He smirks, "Can't a guy smile when he's sitting on his darling's lap?"

Byleth hums, bringing both her hands up to the side of his head to drowsily braid a ribbon of hair, "In my experience, a smile like means you're scheming something."

Claude shifts on her lap and his hands take purchase on the back of her head as he begins doing his own braid on her hair. 

"Accusing your husband of thinking up nefarious things? You know me so well." He winks, "That is, if you consider me merely reminiscing of me being your little kitty nefarious."

Byleth gains more energy in her eyes as she clearly gets more awake, "Yeah? Thinking of doing it again?"

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. 

"You know what I want to know?" He asks, and Byleth quirks one of her brows, "How do cats purr? Are they just filled with bees? I bet they're filled with bees. I wish I could purr."

"Well I suppose you should fill your throat with bees and see what happens," she says, not mentioning how he changed the subject and finishes his braid. She takes a moment to admire her handiwork. And then she takes a moment to just admire him in general.

Claude finishes his own braid on her hair and flips it to the side before putting his face back against her shoulder before mumbling, "You know, you should carry me to bed."

He hears her scoff, "You really are an oversized kitten."

He lifts his bottom up so that her hands can snake under the back of his thighs and she stands up with a huff, Claude's legs now wrapped around her waist.

Byleth merely drops him on the bed like he's a sack of potatoes when she reaches it, and Claude bounces on the silken and overpriced sheets. His legs are still wrapped around her waist, preventing her escape and she gives him an expectant look. He gives her a teeth baring grin. 

"Do you treat all your kittens like that?" He tightens his legs around her. 

Byleth hums noncommittally, her fingers now trailing down his thighs as she begins to lean over him, her hair dripping over her shoulder and just barely touching him.

"Depends.  _ Are  _ you a kitten? You were talking about how much you wanted to purr moments ago. Can you purr?"

Still grinning, Claude curls his fingers and paws at her, he's about to open his mouth when there's a harsh knocking on the door. The sound reverberates around the room, breaking the quiet reverie and Claude closes his mouth with an audible click and huffs an annoyed breath.

"My lieges," that's Seteth, because  _ of course  _ it's him. It's always him knocking on their door in ungodly hours of the evening, "Sir Gloucester and Lady von Edmund wish to have a meeting with you."

Claude feels Byleth's fingers continue to trail down him, now raking against his stomach through his clothes. 

"Are they here right now?" She asks nonchalantly, as if she wasn't in the middle of groping her husband.

"Not currently, I just received notice that they wish to meet with you."

Claude rolls his eyes, "And did you have to come at this very minute? At the middle of the night? Couldn't it wait in the morning?"

"It is imperative we respond in a timely manner," he can almost hear the sigh in Seteth's voice, "Lord Gloucester and Lady von Edmund have stated they have formulated a new farming technique that will quote, 'revolutionize agriculture' unquote." 

Claude hears shuffling papers and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes again. Leave it to Seteth to bring out of a bunch of documents to lecture them through the damn door. Though, it might not be as insufferable as he thought, since one of Byleth's hands now trails on his collar bone, before gripping his neck as if to keep him quiet. He watches her with half-lidded eyes. 

"It's a technique they call Aquaponics," Seteth says, and it's obvious he's reading through a script that was given to him, "It aims to combine the fish and plants in the same ecosystem. In this system, fish grow in indoor ponds and produce a nutrient-rich waste that further acts as a food source for the plants grown in farms. The plants, doing their part, purify and filter the wastewater that gets recycled directly to the fish ponds. It's a mostly small scale affair." 

Doesn't sound too bad. Lorenz and Marianne were always smart when it came to agriculture and their territories has recently seen a great boon in successful farming. Though thinking about fish and farming while Byleth's other hand makes lazy circles around his nipple is making things… difficult, to say the least. He squirms on the bed and his hands hold onto the bedsheets with an iron grip. 

Seteth continues, "However, it is still a method that can be deployed to produce a few fast-growing crops. As a result, the production and economics issues are simplified and it also maximizes efficiency. The plants will be healthier, which results in healthier animals and this makes better meat and milk."

There's some more shuffling and it seems Seteth's finished his short spiel. Claude would make a response but the hand was that circling his nipple is now trailing his lips, and two fingers teases his mouth open. Byleth's digits slide and caress over his tongue, occasionally pushing and pulling on him. The still hand on his throat applies only the slightest pressure and he bucks his hips as best as he can with her legs still wrapped around her. 

She hums, "That sounds like a fine patent. Tell them we'll meet then within a week's time at their villa so that they can show this technique to us, and we'll discuss it further in depth and see if we can expend any resources for them. That will be all, Seteth." Her tips of her fingers hold onto the tip of his tongue and pulls, forcing him to stick the muscle out of his mouth. 

Seteth makes a noise of confirmation and leaves, his footsteps gradually becoming softer and softer before it's inaudible. Byleth speaks again, this time to Claude, "We'll have to get something for their daughter. She's turning one in about two months, I believe." She  _ pinches _ his tongue and he grinds his crotch against hers, "Something truly worthy for the heir of the Gloucester and von Edmund family or else we'll never hear the end of it from Lorenz."

Byleth lets go of Claude's tongue when he whimpers and starts to drool at the corner of his mouth. When he's able to wet his tongue again her lips descend upon his in a fiery and passionate kiss. He moans into her mouth and the grips the sheets tighter, knuckles turning white. He arches his back when the hand that was in his mouth slithers its way in his hair and tightly grabs at him. Her tongue completely dominates his, and he feels nothing but fireworks in his lower stomach. She eventually releases his mouth and he whines, but his protests are cut short when the hand on his throat disappears and Byleth kisses and sucks on his neck just as roughly. His legs loosen their grip around her waist and finally his feet touches the ground when she stops kissing his neck. Warmth radiates from the spot where her lips just touched him, slowly spreading through the rest of his body.

She looks at him, her face just above his and her long hair surrounding him like a cage. He realizes he's panting heavily at this moment, and swallows before giving her a cheeky grin. 

"Seteth has the worst timing, huh?" He still sounds a bit breathless, "He's really gonna come around to tell us about the Lord and Lady of Sheep and Cattle at this hour? He probably senses whenever we do something frisky with the amount of times he interrupts us." 

He huffs an annoyed breath and finally let's go of his death grip on the bedsheets, "You'd think he'd be very particular about  _ not  _ interrupting us considering the amount of times he keeps pestering us to get an heir." 

She quirks a brow, "Not like the sex we have is very effective in doing just that, is it?" Obviously, considering they always use contraceptives whenever he enters her. 

He merely shrugs at that. It's something Seteth and other nobles who think they have the right to butt into their business have been bringing up a lot recently, especially after Lorenz and Marianne had their daughter. They've been bothering Byleth about it moreso than him, and Claude knows constantly being asked about it drives her up the wall. They've discussed it privately, both agreeing that they've no real interest in raising children for the time being. So they deal with the constant questions with annoyed smiles and changing the subject. 

Inwardly, however, he hopes that if or when they have children they will have both a girl and a boy. Perhaps twins. One as an heir to the region of Fodlan and the other as an heir to Almyra, with the two countries itself still united as one. 

And perhaps, just maybe, they can name them after two long lost friends. 

But that's a topic for another day.

And changing the subject is exactly what Byleth does and Claude is broken out of his daydreaming, "You know… I've been thinking."

"You seem to do that pretty often, By."

She leans in, foreheads almost touching and him feeling the warmth of her breath, as well as her breasts pressing against his chest. Eyes glowering with pure unabated lust.

"I bet I could make you cum just by rimming you."

He feels an intense blush crawl across his cheek bones and his breath hitch. He knows he's getting hard at just the thought of her tongue on him. His throat feels slightly dry and he has to exhale a breath he didn't know he was holding in. Goddess, just saying that to him felt like 12 consecutive punches to the gut.

"I-I, uh," he clenches his eyes shut for a second and reopens then, "we just had a huge meal, Byleth. I  _ really  _ don't think that's a smart idea." Not to mention him daydreaming about future children, this  _ really, really _ isn't the time to do this.

She barks out a loud laugh, her head falling back as her laughter eventually turns into giggling. 

"Well, hah, I suppose I didn't think of that." Then she smirks at him, "When next you're clean, then. For now, let's sleep, hmm?" 

And sleep they do, in each other's arm and comfortably under the sheets. Though eventually in their deep slumber they separate, with Byleth taking most of the blanket. 

"The blanket is a shared utensil," he grunts, annoyed, "You can’t just wrap yourself like a burrito and leave me to freeze to death.”

She murmurs sleepily before letting go of her grip on the blanket, if only for a second. But Claude manages to exploit it for all it's worth. He curls himself into the fabric and slithers his arms around Byleth. To his delight, she's facing him, so he doesn't waste any time in plunging his face into her ample bosom. He's rewarded with a small laugh and a hand coming up to caress his hair. 

_ I really am a cat,  _ he happily thinks, though he doesn't really know if cats actually cuddle like this. 

_ Well, whatever, if I was a cat I'd make her boobs my personal pillow.  _

He dreams of cats and kittens doing farming that night. 

-

Byleth makes good on her promise a few days later. Was it a promise? It was more like an observation, but it certainly sounded like a promise for things to come. 

Either way, Claude currently finds himself in the very familiar and  _ very  _ welcome position of being bent over a table now that he's prepared and clean for her… treat. He's completely naked from the waist down and one of his legs is propped on the table and he finds himself trying to grind against her tongue. 

"B-Byleth…" his voice no more than a high-pitched whine.

He's met with an utterly filthy slurping noise as Byleth sucks at his puckered hole and licks around his rim. Claude thinks he might actually be melting under her ministrations, if the unbearable heat pooling in his stomach is anything to go by. His balls feel like a heavy weight and he tries moving his arms beneath him so he can reach his cock. 

The resounding slap that echoes throughout the room and accompanying pain on his ass makes his arms fly back to their original position, and he grabs onto the edge of the table with his hands as if he'll fall off. 

"No touching, little deer," Byleth says against his hole before continuing her work,  _ devouring  _ him like he was a feast to be enjoyed. She hasn't so much as touched his cock either, preferring to keep her whole attention on his entrance. Her tongue prods and teases before entering him and Claude heaves a long moan. 

His body is trembling, completely undone by just her  _ tongue.  _ He feels himself clench around her and her hands pinches his cheeks. Her tongue exits him, returning to licking and sucking around his ring of muscle, making truly lurid noises the entire time. She spits at his hole and his body jumps a little, and she returns to licking him.

He makes lurid noises of his own, his moans and whimpers much louder than Byleth's appreciative hums. 

"Nnng… hah…" 

Her tongue wriggles inside of him again and Claude has to clasp a hand over his mouth to stop himself from moaning  _ too  _ loudly. Their room may be soundproof, but he still likes to pretend that they could be heard. If anything, it motivates Byleth to fuck him harder so that he can end up screaming. She always did like it when he was noisy. 

"Mmmmph…" his hand move away from his mouth when he gives a sharp gasp. Byleth's tongue flicks inside him before exiting again, and she gives one, long lick from his perineum to his hole. 

It's the catalyst he needed, because next he  _ squeals  _ and his body convulses as his cums. Byleth continues to use his tongue on him as his shoot out his load, the sensation clouds his mind and he thinks he might see stars. 

"Haaah..!! B-B-Byleth!"

It's only when he's done shooting out a good four to five streams of cum does Byleth mercifully move away from his now oversensitive and trembling body. His asshole is thoroughly damp from her saliva, so much so he's sure she can easily stick three fingers in him with no resistance. 

"Told you I could make you cum by just rimming you," Byleth says, and a quick glance over his shoulder shows she's wearing a smug expression.

Body still shaking, he tries to move so that he's lying on his back and faces her, "L-Let.. haah.. let me return the favour…?"

She shakes her head and brings forward one of her hands which is slicked in her fluids. 

"Played with myself quite a lot down there, heh. Besides you have all the time in the world to make it up to me. No rush."

Claude heaves a content sigh and nods. He accepts a handkerchief when she offers one and wipes his sweat slicked brow. Byleth runs a hand over the glittering marble of the table and looks with him with an expression that's somehow even more smug than before. 

"Does my little deer need to be carried to bed?"

Before he can respond, she leans in further, "Or perhaps you'd rather I call you my little kitten?"

His breath hitches and Claude has to remember to close his mouth. He licks his lips in anticipation. 

"I… I thought you wanted me to repay you later? You'll have to wait a moment for me to get ready again, By…"

She pats him on the cheek. "Ah, no, we won't be doing anything just yet. Though I would like to have you as my kitten again." Now her eyes hold a mischievous glint to them, "And I think the perfect time and place for it."

That piques his interest. He puts his weight on his elbows and sits up.

"Yeah? I'm all ears."

"Bad Wyvern is holding a party, a  _ masquerade."  _

That gives him pause and he eyes Byleth dubiously, "The sex shop?" Then he frowns, "Is this an orgy? You know I don't like having an audience, Teach." The only 'audience' they've ever have is Seteth with how much he interrupts them, but never actually  _ sees _ anything and Claude would like to keep it that way.

She smiles softly at the nickname he uses despite being married for five years now. 

"Which is why I'm discussing it with you, I know this isn't something I can just surprise you with" she says, "There are many rooms in the building since it used to be a brothel, and I've procured a key through some bartering. Though if you're still unsure I won't hold it against you, and we don't have to go there anyway." 

He appreciates her reassurance, and he trusts her more than enough to know her words are true and he doesn't have to worry about anything. But there's still something that piques his curiosity. 

"Why there specifically? Anything special about this masquerade?" 

She tilts her head and narrows her eyes, almost looking a bit miffed, "I dislike the fact that every time either you or I go there they assume I'm the submissive." 

He laughs lightly at that, "So this is your way of giving them the middle finger is it?" Though he'll have to agree, it is grating that the people who work on that the shop make those types of assumptions. 

And their assumptions are ironic, if anything. Other than Lorenz and Marianne, who are probably the most vanilla people he knows, every other couple in his friend group share one thing in common: the woman is the dominant partner. 

But he can't help thinking back to that one quote he thinks of whenever he found out about that very fact.

_ Birds of a feather flock together. _

He cracks his neck and stands to stretch his arms. 

"As long as the room is private. I have the option to back out whenever?" 

She nods once, "Just say the safeword and we're out of there."

He's gone there enough times to know the masks the shop offers completely conceals one's identity. And he knows Byleth wouldn't lie to him and make him do something he's uncomfortable with. 

So he gives a lazy shrug and agrees. 

-

On the day of the masquerade, Claude is a bundle of barely contained nervous energy. But also excitement. But mostly nerves because in the morning his wyvern, Pruina, ate his cat ears so he had to hastily get someone to get another pair for him. 

His previous cat ears were white, and his new ones are black. So he has a white tail and black ears now.

_ Whatever. Cats come in different colours.  _

It's D-Day. Also what he affectionately called Dick-Down-Day because he knows she'll be giving him the strap. So technically D-D-Day. Which is probably also Byleth's cup size. It all fits so well together. It must be destiny.

The preparations were made, the rules set, and tonight was the night for some kinky sex. Now it's the evening, and in the privacy of their room he takes out a small box with the ears and tail. He fixes the headband on his head and now that it matches his hair colour he sees it's specifically designed to blend in as well, to help keep the illusion.

He strips himself off of his usual outfit and takes out the long tail. The main attraction was of course the large wooden plug with a flared base. He takes the vial of oil next to him to begin preparing himself. 

Now on his hands and knees, he prods his hole with one finger, the coldness from the oil making him shiver slightly. The tip of his digit enters him and pumps in and out to loosen himself up. It's already enough to make him pant briefly. He teases a second finger in and when he gets knuckle deep he moans heavily. A third finger makes him whine and he has to stop fucking himself so he doesn't cum. 

Now ready, he coats the plug with oil. He knows he'll be wearing this plug for a while so he slowly and gently puts it inside of him. It slides into him with little to no resistance and the feeling can be described as  _ divine.  _ The fullness was so arousing and it filled him just right. 

Now fully inside of him, he shifts on his knees and feels the tail brush against his thighs. He goes on his hands and knees and crawls around for a bit to get used to the large object inside of him. 

_ Ready as I'll ever be.  _

It'll hardly be the first time he's had sex toys under clothing before, but something about tonight makes him especially excited. He wraps the fluffy tail part of the plug around one of his thighs and dresses in the costume for the masquerade, putting special attention into covering his face and any other identifying features. 

Now covered in the dark red and black robes with a mask covering his face, and a hoodie to cover his fluffy cat ears, he exits one of the many secret corridors in the palace — he loved secret passageways, and he started putting in so many in the castle walls after he and Byleth married, to the point Seteth had to practically beg him to stop — and escapes through the courtyard unseen. 

Really, he's not opposed to having sex where one could potentially 'catch' them. They've had sex in secret corridors and Claude has fantasized over the thrill of being caught with his darling Teach back in his school days. But one was a controlled environment and one was, well, a fantasy. His nervous excitement begins to bubble up, but he's pretty sure that's because he has an anal plug as big as his fist currently inside of him. 

He knows it makes him walk with an awkward gait but the fullness of the plug just feel so  _ good.  _ He has to… push down on himself every now and then to make sure there isn't too much of a bulge. But luckily it is dark, and the alleys he weaves in and out of are practically deserted. 

When he reaches his destination there's quite the crowd outside. Everyone is wearing their robes and masks and if this weren't a kinky party he'd think that this was some cult meeting. He can hear music playing from the inside of the building and… he'll just assume it's some alternative genre. There's many crazed beats on several different drums and someone sounds like they're going absolutely ham on a flute. Not really his type of music. There's lights from the outside lanterns, and there's glittering illumination from the inside filtering through the windows, launching every shade of the rainbow into the darkness.

He supposes he can kinda see where the worries of several older nobles come from. Something about the young generation becoming… what was the word, degenerates? Claude always thought that word was a bit too harsh. 

But he  _ is  _ coming here with the intention of pretending to be a cat and getting fucked in the ass. So. 

_ Perhaps degeneracy means having a little fun.  _

He smirks under his mask and he sees someone approach him. From her very distinct and custom made mask he can tell it's Byleth. She has the face of a snarling wolf on her, the eyes almost looking like it would see straight through him and large teeth bared. It compliments his own mask quite nicely, since he's a deer. Though he supposes in their current game of him being a cat it doesn't really fit. Whatever. 

"Hello, kitten," she says, the noises of the building and its surrounding patron almost making her inaudible, "I've gotten you a present." 

She holds out her hands to him and he unconsciously clenches around the plug. 

A collar. 

A _ golden  _ collar. 

"You… You know so well, Teach." He rasps, "Your spunky little kitten needs a leash, huh? Worried I'll scamper off without you?" 

She reaches up to place the collar around his neck, careful not to make his hoodie fall. Getting a closer look at the collar he sees it's decorated with a ring of lace around the middle and a bell hanging down from the centre. Byleth secures it around his neck, it's tight but comfortably so and it helps him into the right headspace for this game.

Now snugly around his neck she brings out another surprise from her long flowy robes. A mask, one that looks like a cat's face but with no ears so that his fluffy ears can be used. 

Damn. She's thought of everything. She’s such a schemer.

_ A woman after my own heart.  _

They quickly move to a small corner so that Claude can discreetly swap his masks. Hoodie down, ears perched, and mask covering his face. He's ready to enjoy some good old fashioned debauchery. 

Byleth has her hand on his leash and begins  _ leading  _ him through the crowd. He can feel warmth pooling around his entire body from being  _ paraded  _ around like this. Shown to everyone who sees them that he is hers completely. 

Maybe having an audience isn't  _ too  _ bad. At least in this context, being anonymous and collared. He knows he still doesn't want to have actual sex in front of these people, but this is fine. 

Better than fine, really. 

_ It's fucking hot.  _

Perhaps he's found a new kink. 

They continue walking through the crowd until they enter that building. Claude was expecting a full orgy at this point —  _ can you blame me? This is a party is being held at a brothel turned sex toy shop afterall  _ — but to his surprise most people are fully clothed and are just dancing, arms flailing in the air as they gyrate their bodies. Other than some sloppy makeout sessions and a bartender who's he's 99% sure is currently getting her pussy ate by someone under the table, everyone is being somewhat  _ modest.  _

"You good?" He hears Byleth whisper.

He tilts his head like an inquisitive cat and curls his fingers to paw at her excitedly.

"Meow~!" He mewls.

That's a good enough response for her, and she continues leasing him through the crowd with his collar. He has to stop clenching around the plug so much lest he wants the thing to actually pop out of him.

Now  _ that  _ would be awkward. 

The toy's been inside of him long enough that his sphincter is beginning to ache slightly. The small sting of pain of every step intermingling with the euphoria of pleasure than comes from his total submission. He's fully hard now, his cock straining against his clothes almost as much as his muscles strain against the plug. 

Byleth makes sure make a few laps to properly show her  _ kitten  _ off and Claude finds he relishes in the anonymous attention. However, eventually the strain of wanting to get some form of release and the plug almost feeling as though it's gotten  _ bigger  _ because he clenches down on it breaks his resolve. 

With shaking hands, he almost shyly grabs a hold of Byleth's robes to get her attention. 

"T-Tea—" he swallows, and remembers the role he's playing and that he said he wouldn't quite as talkative as last time, "Nnng, me-meow…" 

He can see her eyes through her mask, her emerald eyes more piercing than his own and holding a dangerous glint to them. 

"I've been wondering when you'd say something," she whispers and the hand not holding his leash grabs hold of his ass, a finger going between his cheeks to poke at the plug through his robes. Claude whimpers and he feels his knees begin to shake. 

The hand on his ass disappears and grips onto his leash as Byleth forces him to bed down and she whispers at him heatedly.

"Well then, kitty cat, let's head to our room then, hmm?" 

He mewls weakly, and Byleth leads him to a corner that leads to a set of stairs, she briefly shows what he can only assume is a VIP card to the guard stationed there who lets them pass. 

Walking up the stairs is a sweetly divine torture for Claude, the plug moving with every step and he has to lean on the wall every now and then to catch his breath. This is turning out to be much more physically taxing than he thought. He's whole body feels like it's on fire. 

Eventually they do make it to the room and Byleth quickly opens the door and roughly pulls Claude inside. The door slams shut and the noises from downstairs is only a soft murmur now. 

He takes a look at his surroundings, it's clear that no one has used this bedroom for a while but it's been recently clean. It's… plain, but it'll do.

And best of all, it's private. He knows Byleth is letting him take it in and decide whether or not the room is acceptable as she's simply standing behind him doing and saying nothing. 

He turns to her and sees she's taken off her mask. She quirks a brow and he takes off his own mask. 

He paws at her, "Meow!" 

She cracks a grin at that, "I'm glad it's up to your expectations. I was worried I'd need to serve it to you on a golden platter, cats seem to expect a lot of lavish preparations." 

He responds to that by starting to take his now stuffy robes off. Now naked and his tail unfurled around his thigh, he gets on his hands and knees.

_ Just like a good kitty.  _

And he was going to be the  _ best  _ kitten. 

Byleth's grin grows wider and she leans down to scratch at his ears, careful not to knock off his head ornament. Claude mews happily, leaning to push his head against her hand and trying his best to imitate a purr. He hears her chuckle softly and feels her hand trail down his neck and then to his back. He arches his back in response, ass in the air. Her hand eventually reaches between his asscheeks and she jostles and pulls at the plug lightly, sending ripples of intense pleasure to flow through Claude. He's already leaking precum and he clenches his fist in an attempt to refocus himself. 

He mewls pathetically when she turns the plug ever so slightly. 

She stop playing with the toy and Claude looks up to her, barely seeing her through the fringe of messy hair. 

She takes something out of her robes — just how many things can she hide in there anyway? — and he sees… A feather, tied to a string.

Ah.

Well he  _ was  _ a cat. And this toy was something he was certain any cat would go crazy for.

He licks his lips and gives a proper meow when she dangles it just out of his reach. 

He bats at it, fingers tucked together to make his hand a paw. Byleth moves the toy again out of his reach and Claude meows, though he's pretty sure it's more of a whine.

He darts after the toy, again and again. With the way Byleth moves it she makes him crawl around the room for it as she giggles. It reminds him as when she made him follow her strap-on and feels just as physically taxing. 

His movements wanes, crawling on all fours is _ hard work _ and having a large plug up one's anus for an extended period of time is a recipe for exhaustion. Byleth slows her movements and he's able to eventually pounce on the feathered toy victoriously. He grins at her as if he had won a long, hard earned battle and the humiliation of this game they're playing making his cock throb harder. 

She scratches one of his ears again and Claude happily leans into the welcomed touch, "Well done, kitten," she whispers and leans in further and he can recognize the unmistakable hint of desire in her eyes, "I think it's time for the main show, yes?" Her voice is raspy, and it's obvious she’d been suppressing her want as much as he had.

"Get on the bed." It was an  _ order _ and even though he was certain cats seldom ever followed orders, he began to crawl his way to the velvety cushions of the bed. 

When he's on the bed, he makes sure to lie on his back, legs apart and and hands curled to paw at her. Just like a lazy, lounging kitty cat. He mewls at her. 

When Byleth approaches him he sees she's produced a vial of oil, probably from her apparently infinite robes. She lazily pours oil on his cock and the sudden and cool slickness makes him gasp and buck his hips. He bucks his hips further and whines when her strong hands grip his length. She strokes him firmly and swipes her thumb over his sensitive head and he tries to make the hiss that comes out of him sound like a cat's. 

She pumps in earnest and his needy moans and whines were the only noises that filled the relative silence, the masquerade downstairs practically forgotten. 

"Haah.. nng.. me-meow…!" Claude can feel tingles overtake his whole body, the sensation of her pumping him and the toy seemingly riding further up his asshole makes shudder and gasp.

The jostling of the plug forces a groan out of his throat and he arches his back. Just when he thinks he's seconds from release, the hand on his cock disappears. 

The high whine that leaves Claude’s lips is entirely out of his control. His need for release completely overtakes his role and he looks at Byleth pleadingly, forehead slicked with sweat and messy hair almost covering his eyes, "T-T-Teach…!!"

She says nothing, but instead hikes up her robes to reveal yet another surprise. 

Well, not really a surprise, since he was expecting it. 

Her strap on, so she had been wearing it this entire time. He can see several streams running down her thighs and he knows she's been just dying for this moment.

She takes a hold of his tail, and lightly and gently begins pulling it. Claude writhes on the sheets, his hands looking to grab onto anything, eventually gripping the bed's headboard. He clenches hard in the toy, and eventually it exits him with a  _ pop.  _ He can feel his anus gaping and he groans loudly. 

He watches her slick the toy with oil before aiming it at his entrance. He grips the headboard tighter when she leans down, her hands on either side of his face. 

"I'm going to breed you like a bitch," she growls, and all coherent thought is thrown out the window and she enters him and all he can do is whine pathetically. 

When she fully enters him she grabs a hold of his hips and begins to violently move her hips to give him a good pounding. 

Her pace is relentless and staying in character is thrown out the window when Claude's cat ears are flung off from the force of Byleth's thrusts. 

"Nnng… T-Teach, Byleth.. I-I, —  _ ah!" _ She hits a particularly sensitive spot there, "I thought I was a c-cat, not a dog!"

He thinks she might split him into two, and he finds he would welcome and relish in the pain. 

She grunts, "Cats still get bred." She grips him hard enough he thinks he'll bruise, "Did you know cats can have up to five litters a year? With up to three to five kittens per litter?" 

One of her hands goes to his face to wipe some sweat-drenched hair from his face, and then it grabs his throat. Claude sinks his fingers further into the already splintered wood of the headboard, arches his back and tries to roll his hips to fuck himself harder. 

"You're going to give me so many kittens," Byleth continues, voice harsh, "Y-You'll… your belly will grow round with  _ my  _ brood."

His hips stutter and his body writhes as he tries to stifle a high pitched moan into his arm. He can't stifle the moan when the hand still gripping his hip moves to grab and pump his cock. 

"You'll let me breed you, won't you? Breed you with my litter?" She rasps. This is an entirely new form of dirty talk and it's utterly  _ filthy  _ and it makes his ass clench tightly around the toy. 

He nods fervently, tears prickle at the corner of his eyes, "Yes! Y-Yes, Byleth!" 

"I'm going to fuck you hard you'll be dripping cum for days, maybe that plug to make sure you don't lose any of my precious seed, hmm?" She pulls back slowly and carefully before thrusting back inside him with enough force he can hear his teeth harshly clatter against one another. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and cries out, "F-Fill me..please!"

She pushes into him so hard he thinks he might get carpet burn with how far moves ahead. A guttural groan comes out of Claude's mouth as his whole body spasms when he orgasm. He can feel Byleth furiously stroke his cock as she continues to pound him, the sounds of their slapping flesh soon overpowering his whimper and cries. 

He cums hard enough that the pearly white substance spews across his chest, with some even hitting his face. 

Byleth soons slams into him and stills from her orgasm, her body shaking slightly and her mouth open from a soundless scream. 

Soon the only sound from the room is their panting before Byleth finally removes the toy from his anus creating a filthy squelching noise. She blows an annoyed breath before she hastily and messily takes off her robes, clearly feeling overheated. She walks to a nightstand to get a glass of water he didn't even notice was there. She sips some herself before offering it to Claude and graciously downs it all. 

Byleth flops onto the bed next to him, now wiping a napkin across his messy chest and face. Claude let's go the grip he has on the headboard and slumps, feeling completely boneless. 

Byleth finishes cleaning him, and they both lie there for a moment with her head on his chest, and he can feel her hand caress his hair. 

She's about to say something when—

The doorknob jiggles. Claude's heart lurches at the thought that Seteth actually activated his lewdness sensors and came barreling to this shop to make sure his lieges were fucking properly— 

"Darn it! It's locked!" Came a distinctly… feminine voice. Distinctly familiar too… 

_ Hilda..?  _

One of Byleth's hands covers his mouth to keep him quiet.

Then, a male voice speaks. 

"M-Master… perhaps we should—" that sounded like an awful lot like Ignatz. 

Hilda cooes him, "Hush now, kitten. We'll find another room." 

He hears Ignatz whine slightly and then the sounds of their footsteps disappear as they walk away. 

After several heartbeats the hand on his mouth disappears as Byleth heaves a loud laugh. Her raucous laughter is soon joined by Claude's, the sheer absurdity of the situation being far too hilarious to ignore. 

"W-Who would have.." Byleth gasps and slaps her knee, "Who would have thought our dear friends had the same idea we do! Haha!"

They continue laughing until all that's left is fits of giggles. Their giggles rolling about the room like a child’s spinning top, vibrant and full of warmth. 

When Claude recomposes himself he speaks, though there's still some laughter in his voice, "'Master'? I figured Ignatz was the type of guy who would call his mistress 'Goddess'!" He wipes a tear from his eye, "And of course Hilda is too lazy to book a reservation but she's enough of a schemer to sneak past the guard.  _ Honestly." _

They giggle for a while longer before quieting down and returning to their original cuddling position. Though there's still the occasional fit of giggling every now and then. The fits would come in bursts — loud to soft to nothing at all and back to loud again, as if there was an invisible feather caressing their ticklish spot.

Eventually, Claude sighs contentedly and kisses Byleth on the cheek before grazing her lips. Her tongue enters his mouth and he lets her make grand sweeps around his mouth. When they part she smirks at him and moves away from him. Before he can whine about the loss of her warmth she pats her breasts.

“I know you like using these girls as your pillow. C’mere.” 

He huffs one last chuckle before crawling to place his face directly between her breasts and he heaves another happy sigh. One of Byleth’s hands rubs his hair while the other holds onto Claude’s hand. The silence is broken when he speaks up.

“You know,” He says, and he’s sure she can feel his grin and stubble against her chest, “I think next I shop here I’ll look for something that can squirt synthetic cum.”

He looks up to her, finding his grin matches hers.

“So you can properly breed me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which I shamelessly and vicariously use these characters to tout my anti-maledom rhetoric. Bwahaha. 
> 
> Also, side note, I don't generally read pregnancy fics because I usually dislike them, but I'd totes read one of Marianne and Lorenz. Their supports were so nice. Lorenz was so sweet and he'd absolutely be a doting father and husband. Totally overprotective of Marianne, and she in turn would be a great mother and wife. They're just so sweet I'm getting cavities just thinking about it.
> 
> Also side-side note, I fear my writing is too stiff. Is it? I'm always looking to improve so, uh, yeah.ヽ(；▽；)ノ


End file.
